First Kiss

Faith managed to smile again then said, "You're not boring me. I don't do very well alone, either. So...if you wouldn't get bored poking along at my pace, I guess maybe that would be okay. But if you do, you have to tell me, okay?"

"I won't get bored," he told her. "I can ride my bike to your place, and we can walk from there. When we get back, I can finish my bike ride. We can keep each other company and both do our workouts. I believe they call that a win-win."

"I can barely finish my walk. I can't imagine going for a bike ride after," she said nearly smiling again.

"Give it time," he told her. "If you do, I promise you you'll be able to do both—or even run if you so choose. We humans can do pretty much anything we set our minds to doing, you know."

"Yeah, I guess we can. We just have to stay determined, right?"

"There you go!" he told her. "So if you don't mind, I'd be happy to ride alongside you 'til you get home then I'll know where to meet you tomorrow."

Just as he'd said, Monroe talked almost non-stop all the way back to her house. Faith managed to say a few words a couple of times, but that was more than enough. She'd never had a male friend before, and in spite of his having just turned 51, Faith was thrilled that any man this nice would want to spend any time with her all. And for someone who was 51, he was actually kind of cute. Well, maybe not 'cute' but he wasn't a bad-looking man.

Faith didn't know her father, and she had no brothers, so this was all very new for her and based on just a few minutes of experience, it was...kind of nice...no matter what the age.

"So I'll meet you right here tomorrow at 9 o'clock?" he said.

"Okay, if you're sure."

He smiled and told her, "I'm sure. Take care, Faith. It was very nice meeting you," he said as he flipped his bike around.

"You too, Mr. Monroe," she said. "See you tomorrow!"

He pushed off and waved goodbye as he headed off down the street.

Faith turned around and realized she was really smiling—just because—for the first time in well, she couldn't remember the last time.

When her mom got home, Faith told her about having met Mr. Monroe and how he'd asked if he could walk with her as well as how he'd lost his wife.

"Oh, that poor man!" she said when she learned about his wife's passing. "He seems like a very nice person, honey, and if you think he can help keep you interested in your exercise, how great is that?"

She looked at Faith then said, "He's my age? Hey, is he by any chance cute?"

"Mom!" Faith said laughing for the first time in a very long while.

"It's so good to see you happy again, Faith. Whatever you're doing, keep it up, okay?"

She laughed then said, "But is he cute?"

The laughter stopped when she poured her first drink of the evening and Faith her mom would keep drinking until she passed out, something that was happening nearly every night lately.

Faith looked just like her mother with the exception of age and weight. Her mom was 48 and had been a size 6 or 8 all of her life. Unlike her daughter, she'd never battled with weight or food, but she did drink. In fact, she drank quite a bit. It wasn't unusual for her to put away an entire bottle of wine in one evening several days a week until she switched to vodka a couple of months ago. Knowing now what Faith knew about alcohol and the empty calories it contained, she couldn't understand how her mom could stay so small unless she ate even less than Faith thought she did.

All she needed was to start worrying about her mother's health and possible addiction to alcohol while she battled her own demons.

Faith pushed those concerns out of her mind and made it until the following morning when she found herself not wanting more for breakfast for the first time...ever...and then realized she was actually really looking forward to meeting Mr. Monroe. Yes, he was old enough to be her father, but he was a man, and although it was very sad, he was single. How could it possibly hurt to pretend he was coming to pick her up for a date and take her somewhere romantic? As long as no one else knew, Faith saw no harm in it and gave herself permission to use a little creative fantasy which she justified as helping keep herself motivated to eat right and continue walking.

She no sooner stepped outside than she saw him turn the corner and head toward her house.

He smoothly pulled into the driveway and said, "Good morning, Faith!"

He put down the kickstand then pulled off his helmet revealing a surprisingly thick head of hair that was graying around the temples. "Let me just change shoes and I'll be ready to rumble."

Faith tried not to laugh as she pictured their slow walk as some kind of rumble. "Why do you need to change shoes?" she asked naively.

He flipped his bicycle shoe over and showed her a steel cleat in the middle. "This clips into the bike pedal and walking on it is bad for the shoe and hard on the feet."

Faith hadn't ridden a bike since she was maybe ten and had never heard of such a thing. She thought you just pushed on the pedals to make the bike move.

"How do you get out of the pedal without falling over?" she wanted to know.

"Just twist your ankle and the cleat lets go," he explained as he pulled on the tennis shoes in his saddle bag. "Do you have a bike, Faith?"

"Me? No, way. I haven't been on one in what? Fifteen years or so?"

"That's too bad. We could go a lot further on bicycles than walking, and I like riding a whole lot better than walking."

He tied his second shoe and stood up. "Okay. All set whenever you're ready!"

He hadn't lied when he told her he might talk non-stop. It was as though he was used to talking all the time, and now that he had no one to talk to, all of whatever was bottled up inside just had to get out.

"How far are we going today?" he asked her.

"I'm supposed to go a mile and a quarter, but I think I could go two if you want to."

"Two it is!" he said as he continued talking. At the mile mark he said, "Am I driving you crazy yet?"

"Not at all," Faith told him. "It's nice to have someone to talk to."

She looked at him and smiled before saying, "Or in your case—listen to."

Monroe laughed, too, and said, "Guilty as charged. I do like to talk. Tell you what. I'll try and be quiet and listen for a while. Go ahead. Let her rip!"

Faith suddenly couldn't think of a single thing to say.

"Tell me about your family, your friends, what you like to do. You know, basic stuff."

Faith's family consisted of her mom, Monroe was now her best and only friend, and eating was the only thing she'd ever really liked to do. While that was all true, she thought it might not be the best idea to be so brutally honest.

"Well, my mom and I live alone. In fact, we've lived in that house my entire life. I graduated from Sumner High School in 2008...."

"Oh, so you're a Spartan, huh?" Monroe said unable to not interrupt. "That's where I taught before becoming an administrator. You know, back before you were born."

He smiled at her then said, "Sorry, I'm supposed to be listening, aren't I?"

Faith had never really talked with anyone like this before in many years, and then it had been some girl who'd briefly paid attention to her before deciding she didn't really want to be her friend. She'd definitely never talked to any guy—boy or man—about herself before.

"I'm not really sure what else to say. I guess I'm the one who's boring."

"You're not boring," Monroe told her. "I like talking to you, Faith. And lucky for me, you're a really good listener."

Faith thanked him and before she get 'thank you' out, Monroe was yammering away again. He talked pretty much without a break the rest of the way back to her house.

"I guess that's it for today," he told her. "Same time, same place tomorrow?"

"Sure," Faith said. "Same time tomorrow."

When they got back the second day, Monroe said, "Listen, I still have my wife's bike in the garage. Would you be maybe be interested in riding it? I'd need to pump up the tires but otherwise it's in perfect shape. She never rode it much so if you want to try it, I can bring it tomorrow. In fact, you'd be welcome to keep it if you find you enjoy riding."

"I don't know. I mean, that was her bike, you know? It doesn't seem right or something."

"It's just collecting dust, Faith. I've thought about selling it, but I'd rather let someone I know have it as long as I know they'd ride it."

"Well, I can't promise I'll ride it regularly, but I guess I could try it."

"Great!" he said. "I'll get the tires pumped up and bring it by tomorrow morning, and we'll find out if you like it or not."

Faith weighed herself the following morning, and she was nearly gleeful to find out another five pounds had come off. She wasn't sure how much 'low-hanging' fruit was left, but this was a very pleasant surprise. In fact, she was at the point where she was going to need some new sweatpants as she was already cinching these up about as far as she could.

When she walked outside just before nine, she saw Monroe removing a silver bicycle from a rack on what had to be his car. His own bike was already on the sidewalk so he'd evidently been there for at least a couple of minutes.

"Mornin'!" he called out. "Here's your trusty steed, young lady. Tell me what you think. We might need to adjust the seat so let's have you straddle the bar and find out. Oh, and put this on before we get started, please."

He handed her a very nice-looking helmet that said 'Trek' on it and Faith pushed it down over her hair and clipped the chinstrap.

She was embarrassed to have to lift her stumpy leg over the seat, but it wasn't a girl's bike and there was no other option so.... The bar was low enough she could stand with it between her legs and comfortably rest both feet on the ground.

"The bike is the perfect size for you. You're a size 18 in bicycle—in case you were interested. Okay. Now let's just have you sit on the seat and push one of the pedals down and find out how much the seat needs to be moved."

"Um...how am I supposed to do that?" Faith asked. To her it seemed she'd just fall over.

"Like this," he said grabbing the handle bars with both hands and putting the front wheel between his legs. "Go ahead. I've got it."

Not quite sure she should trust him, Faith hesitated. "I'm gonna fall over," she told him sure she would.

"No you won't. I've got you," he told her with a smile. "Just sit on the seat, and put your feet on the pedals."

She looked at him one more time before deciding to try it his way. As she sat on the seat, she could tell he was holding the bike firmly and keeping it steady.

"Okay, now push down on one pedal as far as you can."

Faith did as he asked and in less than two seconds Monroe said, "Great. We need to raise the seat about two inches and you'll be all set. Go ahead and get off and I'll adjust it for you."

Faith slowly and carefully dismounted, secretly praying she wouldn't fall off or pull both of them down.

Monroe pulled out an allen wrench, turned something and pulled the seat up, then tightened the thingy back up and said, "Good to go!"

Faith got back on and pushed off. "My seat is way too high!" she called out.

Monroe peddled alongside her and said, "No, that's right where it should be. It may take some getting used to, but trust me on that, okay?"

Faith had never trusted any man, and that was a tall order, but his friendly smile convinced her to try. "Okay. I trust you. It feels really high, but I do trust you."

After a couple of minutes Rob asked how she was doing. They were riding single file to give cars more room to pass them until the could get out to a bike path.

"It feels like we're going very fast," Faith said.

"We're doing about 10 miles per hour," Rob told her. "People walk about 3 miles per hour and you haven't been on a bike for a long time so give it a chance, okay?"

"Okay," she called back. "Other than that, this is kind of nice. I think I like this better than walking."

"Really? If that's the case, maybe I have a new bike buddy," he said over his shoulder.

"What about your friend?" she asked.

"The more the merrier, right?" Rob said not stopping to think she might not be comfortable around other people. Kevin had called and said he was staying at camp because of the counselors couldn't make it. That gave Rob nearly a month with Faith which seemed like a good thing.

"I guess," Faith said trying not to sound negative.

They turned off onto the path and Rob slowed down to her Faith ride side by side.

"I love all the bike paths around here. The scenery is just spectacular."

"I've been too busy looking down at the road to notice," Faith said. "I'll try and pay more attention."

There was a large picnic area two miles and ahead and when they got there Rob said, "We should bring a lunch and have a little picnic out here one of these times. If you want to keep riding, that is."

His suggestion caught her by surprise to the point it took her a few seconds for it to register. It was the closest she'd come to being asked out on a date in her life, the two sympathy dates aside anyway. Even so, the thought of anyone seeing her in pubic eating anything—even healthy food—still frightened her.

"I don't know, Mr. Monroe," she said. "I'm not sure about that."

He glanced over at her then said, "I understand. It would be kind of embarrassing to be seen with a guy my age. It was just a thought. But I guess you could pretend I was your father or your uncle. That might help."

"What?" Faith said not understanding at all.

"You're young and pretty. I'm old and...not. Having lunch with a guy old enough to be your father might be a little much to ask. I didn't even think of it. It's no big deal."

"No, wait. That's not what I meant at all," she said now feeling bad once she realized what he was saying.

"Then what is it? I mean, we could bring healthy food to eat, right?" he said with a smile.

"It's not that, either," she said quietly as they rolled along through the trees and green underbrush on both sides of the path.

"Do you have a boyfriend or something? I should have assumed you do. I don't know why I didn't think of that. He could join us," Rob told her sincerely.

"No. Mr. Monroe, you don't understand," she replied. "I...I don't like people seeing me."

"At all?" he asked as kindly as he could for the sake of understanding.

"Well, not really, but even worse is if someone...anyone...sees me eating. I never, ever eat in public."

Rob now understood. He was trying to imagine the cruel things people would say if she was eating anything, let alone something fattening.

"Can we maybe turn around and go back to the picnic area and talk for a minute?" Rob asked.

Just the thought of sitting there, even though it was unoccupied, made her uneasy but she agreed. They turned around then slowed down as they approached the little area with four small tables and benches all bolted into cement pads. There was a trash can and a restroom for men and women along with a water fountain.

They sat at the first table and Rob removed his helmet and said, "I know you don't want or need my pity, Faith. But when I think about the kinds of things you've endured, it makes me not only sad but a little angry. I know I can't change the way you feel, and it's going to take you some time to establish a new self-image, but I want you to know I don't see the same girl you see."

"You don't?" she asked, her round face looking almost comical under the bike helmet that didn't have a visor.

"No. Not unless you see a beautiful girl with unlimited potential. And something tells me you're not even aware that girl exists. But she does, Faith. And I see her every time I look at you."

Faith barely looked at him when he spoke, and now she had tears welling up in her eyes.

Rob moved around the table and sat next to her then gently put a hand on her shoulder.

"Please don't cry."

In spite of his words, Faith did cry. She sat there feeling sad and alone again like she was hopelessly trapped in a nightmare from which she could never escape.

Finally, she managed to say, "I hate when people look at me."

Her breath was ragged and the words were halting.

Rob gently ran his hand up and down her upper back and waited for her continue.

"I always eat in private. My mom is the only person I let see me eat, and even then I still feel...ashamed," she said through her tears.

"Faith?" Rob said quietly as he put his head next to hers so his mouth was near her ear. "I want you to know I don't see that girl you're talking about. I know you do, but I don't. I only see this wonderful, special girl sitting next to me who's working very hard to get healthy. A girl I know can do that. A girl I like spending time with. A girl who's my...friend."

"A girl who's your friend," she said as she struggled to control her breathing. "I've never been any boy's friend."

She realized what she said then told him, "Or any man's friend."

Rob put his arm around her still-large shoulder and said, "Well, you're my friend, Faith Palmer. And last time I checked, I was still a boy."

She looked over at him and through her tears she laughed.

"Okay, I haven't been a boy in um...let me see.... Um, well, it's been a very long time, but you know what I mean, right?" he said as he pulled her closer and smiled at her.

She smiled again then said, "Thank you for being so nice to me, Mr. Monroe."

"You're welcome. But it's easy to be nice to someone who's so nice herself," he told her.

As he pulled on her shoulder again, she laid her head, helmet and all, on his.

"Did you know I've never even held hands with a boy let alone been kissed?" she said.

"No. I didn't know that, Faith. Again, I'm not pitying you, but it does make me feel sorry for you because being in love is so amazing," he told her as he remembered that first kiss with his wife.

"Do you know what my dream is to motivate me to keep losing weight?" she asked quietly, her breathing now steady again.

"What?" he asked her.

"Don't laugh, okay?" she said.

"I promise."

"A wedding dress. A beautiful, white wedding dress."

"Why would I laugh at that?" he asked sincerely. "That sounds pretty amazing to me."

"I don't know. Maybe because no one is ever going to love a girl like me?" she said without looking at him.

"Hmmm. It sounds like someone either forgot or didn't believe me when I told her she was pretty," he told her.

"I didn't forget, but I really didn't believe you. I know you were just being nice, and that's okay. Even just being nice is better than never hearing it."

Rob moved his head away forcing her to raise hers up. He waited until she looked at him then said, "If I was ten years...no, make that 20 or even 25 years younger, I'd kiss you just to prove I think you're a pretty girl."

"I'd probably throw up if you did," she said meaning from nerves.

"Ouch! I know I'm old, but am I that bad?" he said with a smile.

"No! I didn't mean it like that, Mr. Monroe! I meant I'd be so nervous and scared I wouldn't know what else to do."

She looked at his weathered face for a second then said, "Besides, you're very handsome."

He laughed politely then said, "Now who's just being nice, Faith?"

When he saw the hurt in her eyes because he understood she'd meant what she just told him, he felt even worse.

"You...you weren't just being polite, were you?" he said quietly as she stared at him.

"Did you...I mean...do you...you know, want to kiss me?" she asked, her heart beating like a drum.

"Faith. I...I'm so much older than you and it would be so...."

"So...what?" she asked.

"I don't know," he told her. "I honestly don't know."

"If you don't want to that's okay," she said feeling foolish.